Chained Eagle
by greenpeach20
Summary: post-apocalyptic, the United States has fallen under the thumb of a Fascist dictatorship. Jacob is a fallen soldier while Renesmee is a revolutionary leading a group called The American Liberation Society. This delves into the cruel corruption, the psychology and the structure of America's dictatorship and the people under its iron thumb.
1. Request to my Readers

A Request to my Readers

To all those who are fans, devoted or casual, and to those who happened upon this text by chance: I have a request for you. This is, indeed, in the format of a fanfiction of the Twilight nature, but the concept and story are my ideas for a novel I hope one day will be printed and bound into reality. I've spent two years of high school and the entirety of my college life writing continuations of another woman's stories and I've enjoyed doing so, but it's time for me to move on as a writer and begin writing my own works and putting my own ideas and novels onto paper (digital or otherwise). My request, then, is for my readers (particularly the ones who've been with me since the beginning and have seen my changes as an author) to critique the story I'm presenting to you, not just as a fan that's enjoyed my stories thus far but also as a critic looking at my work, _my_ work, for the first time, unsure of what to expect. I greatly encourage and would deeply appreciate plenty of reviews on what your thoughts are on the story. I don't simply mean, "Holy shit this is awesome, I love it!" (though if that is indeed the case, thank you for the compliment) I also mean pointing out what you liked and what you didn't like (especially what you didn't like). It's my goal that this will only improve the text to come and I realize that, sometimes, the toughest critics are those on the internet. Otherwise, please enjoy a Greenpeach20 original work.

Always,

Greenpeach20


	2. Prologue

**Prologue**

It started with the election of 2016. It was a race between Governor Arnold D. Pembroke (R) of New York and Governor Thomas H. Marshal (D) of New Hampshire. Yes, you should shutter at the mention of Thomas Marshal, for as we know, he was no true Democrat. They both promised more than they could deliver, as was typical for any presidential candidate. Governor Pembroke wanted to create new jobs in America; of course he was never specific of how he planned to do such a thing. Governor Thomas Marshal made the same promise. Governor Pembroke promised reform after reform, going so far as to claim he would refute what at that time had been coined 'Obamacare', because, "Universal healthcare is a communist idea." Perhaps he should've kept that to himself. Perhaps, if he had, he could've won the election. Governor Thomas Marshal, he was different. He told us what we, the American people, wanted to hear. He promised reform and improvement, he promised more money for education that would bring us up to #1 in worldwide test scores as we "deserved to be". We are America after all. He even promised that, during his presidency, he would work to label anti-gay-marriage-laws as unconstitutional. With such a large population of homosexuals demanding equality, such a promise would sway the vote in his favor. Who's to say whether such a thing mattered to Thomas Marshal? What mattered was that it won him support from the population that would ensure his victory. Governor Thomas H. Marshal won the hearts of America (or of the 30% that actually voted) and became the 45th president of the United States. He also became the last.

Things began to change with an explosion. The Statue of Liberty was hit with an airplane February 12, 2017 at 10:15 a.m. The death toll was marked at 2,500 people, though the exact number we will never be sure of. President Thomas Marshal went on national television and addressed the American people. "It was terrorists!" he yelled into the microphone. "A national symbol has been destroyed," he said. "We must find our enemy and retaliate," he said. America cheered and clamored for the blood of their enemies without ever knowing who their enemies really were. But it didn't stop with the Statue of Liberty. After her death was the explosion of the Lincoln Memorial; the colossal figure reduced to dust thanks to four well placed bombs. Mount Rushmore died next. You see, it started with our national monuments. Stone crafted from our American spirit until we had nothing left of ourselves. It demoralized and outraged the people. But it still didn't end there. New York was attacked, as was Chicago, Seattle, Los Angeles, San Francisco, Boston, Philadelphia, all our major cities, except, interestingly, Washington D.C., one of the most important cities in the United States. The number of casualties skyrocketed. Ironically, they were the lucky ones. Businesses were destroyed, jobs were lost, and we saw the worst depression since the 1930's. Soup lines went around several blocks and the barrier between the haves and the have-nots grew exponentially. President Thomas Marshal addressed the people again with tears in his eyes over the tragedies that have befallen us. "It pains me," he had said, "that we've been so wounded by our enemies. I've proposed to congress a bill I have called The Marshal Bill, which will give me the power to defeat our enemies and bring this great country back to its former glory!"

We know better now. Back then, though, we were desperate and we were scared. Even the ones that knew better were too scared to say no. The Marshal Bill was passed August 23rd, 2017 and that's when Thomas Marshal became America's first dictator. All that remained by then of the America we knew was the White House; once a symbol for democracy, it's now the home of our vicious dictator and his family. Men were drafted into the military, mostly from the lower class of course, to fight against a ghostly enemy. Our enemy was a terrorist, yes, but he was one of our own, a man that longed for power and gained it by using our democracy against us. We lost our rights, our way of life, all that we were. It started small of course. Freedoms of speech, post, internet, telephone were revoked for everyone. Thomas Marshal took control of the newspapers and what was posted on the internet. Anything that was undesirable was blocked from view. Many Americans saw this for what it was: a hostile takeover of The United States. They tried to rebel, but those who did were murdered. Government officials were murdered in their homes. Musicians, artists, anyone that had the means to make the people stand up and fight were executed. Some musicians fled, but very few had the time to run. Former president Barack Obama and his family escaped. They fled to England where he entreated the English government to save America from the tyrant. From London, Former President Barack Obama called on all our former allies: Canada, Italy, and France, Germany, South Korea, and anyone that was willing to stand up and help force Thomas Marshal out of the White House.

The brainwashing had already begun though. Thomas Marshal scared America, telling the people that these countries that wanted to free us were our enemies. He had the people believing that these countries had conspired against America, that it was these countries that had destroyed our monuments and weakened our moral.

The Third World War had begun. Japan (who'd built up an army with other allied assistance) and South Korea sent their armies to the west coast, Canada and France stationed their soldiers to the north, and England, Germany and Italy had soldiers stationed at the east coast. Alas, all the odds seemed against Thomas Marshal but it wasn't enough. He'd acquired assistance from the most dangerous drug cartels through Mexico, Colombia, and even within the United States. There was no shortage of guns and men willing to fight, especially for the drugs that became the currency of the desperate. Two years into the war, Thomas Marshal signed a treaty with Kim Jung Un, who agreed to form another front in South Korea and Japan, forcing the Asian countries to retreat from the west coast. In rebellion against North Korea, Russia and China joined the fight. With Russia's involvement came the Middle East's involvement.

July of 2020, Thomas Marshal allied America with war lords in Africa. Soldiers from all over Africa were recruited (regardless of age or desire) and formed yet another front that stretched resources thin for everyone. North Korea was the first to drop the atomic bomb, first on Tokyo, Japan, and then on Seoul, South Korea. No one knows who dropped the third atomic bomb. All we know was it was unleashed on Bagdad. Then it was Moscow, Russia, London, England – all of the countries that were fighting against America suffered the wrath of an atom bomb. Paris was the last of our former allies to be nuked and those that promised to try and save America couldn't fight anymore. On December 20, 2021, World War III ended, but there was no resolution, only destruction and exhaustion.

After the war, Thomas Marshal passed the law that was the final nail in our coffin: The Separation Act. In short, it's the law that made us what we are today. The Haves (those with money) live in luxury with money, power, and an education (and by education, I mean whatever Thomas Marshal approved). Books were burned so that the Haves and Have-nots would forget about the world before Thomas Marshal. Slavery of blacks in America, the holocaust in Germany, encampment of Asian Americans, Skinheads, the KKK, all were reduced to simple myths that were never dared uttered. The American flag was changed to a single white star with a blue backdrop and the strips of red were turned into one bold color. The idea was oneness. One type of America, one type of true American, and there was no room in that 'oneness' for those Thomas Marshal deemed "lesser people". There was no history taught that Thomas Marshal did not approve of and those that remembered never dared remind the youth. Now, the Have-nots, as they've been dubbed, were reduced to slaves, property, inferiors not permitted to any knowledge. All babies born to Have-nots had **HN** tattooed on their necks as a permanent reminder of their inferiority. Those men drafted into the military and already in the military, their children were tattooed with an **M**. The Haves bare no brand besides their clothes; bright colors, rich fabrics, silk, lace, and metal, all the symbols of the upper class that the Have-nots aren't permitted to wear.

The year was, at the start of our story, 2080, 64 years after Thomas H. Marshal came to power. A fourth generation Marshal is in the White House that's proven to be more of a jackal than his predecessors. Victor L. Marshal is the great grandson to Thomas H. Marshal. He's also, officially, the youngest man to ever come to the 'presidency' in American history. Victor's father, Louis Marshal, was assassinated in Miami, Florida by Gerard Davis who belonged to a political group called The Sons of Liberty. I can't say I know the name of Victor's mother, but what I do know is that she was still pregnant when Louis was killed and she was tossed aside by the Marshal family after she had Victor. Regardless, Louis was dead, leaving his little sister, Lynda, to take over once their father Robert was dead. Yet Lynda died in a car crash when she was about nineteen. That meant Victor was the only Marshal left to take over when Robert Marshal died. America was underground by then what with nuclear drift coming in with the winds. That's not to say that the upper world wasn't completely uninhabitable, but there were certainly signs that it wasn't the best living environment either. Plants were dead or dying, animal populations plummeted, and all food production had to be moved underground with artificial conditions. It's devastating to see what came of our amber waves of grain, our purple mountain majesties, and our fruited plains from sea to shining sea. Edmund Burke once said, "The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing." I would like to present a question to Edmund Burke. What happens when there are no good men left?


	3. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The Collin's estate was a lovely place in Washington D.C. despite being underground. The entrance was the top floor of the home with a protrusion elevating above ground to allow for the family and others to exit and enter the home. Above ground travel was the optimum way to move around since underground roads were still heavily under construction, but citizens were required to wear masks and suits to protect themselves from radiation. Younger generations had a habit of only wearing the masks because the suits were ugly. They all learned the hard way, though. The funny thing about nuclear radiation is it gives people cancer. Who knew? Homes were a reversal of what they'd been before the dissention underground. Instead of going up to one's room, they went down.

It was early in the afternoon and Jacob Black was fixing Lauren Colin's computer after she'd dropped it on the floor with her backpack. "Is it done yet? I want to talk to my friends."

"You could try calling them," Jacob mumbled. "You just got a new phone didn't you?"

"Unlike you. And don't talk back to me," Lauren said, her chainmail hoodie clinking with the movement of her head. "You know the only reason mom keeps you around is because you're good at fixing computers and shit." Jacob took a deep breath and stayed silent. He was handy with electronics in general, but cars were his best talent, his passion. What he took issue with was his passion being exploited. "By the way, my friend's car is making a weird beeping sound in the engine and I told her you'd take a look at it."

"Whenever she wants," Jacob mumbled.

"Cool," Lauren said and pulled out her phone to text her friend. Again, Jacob said nothing and continued working on Lauren's computer. "She said she'd come over later today."

"I'll take a look at it, but if a new part's needed, then there's nothing I can do for her. She'll need to take it to a shop." Using the proper tools, Jacob finished up Lauren's computer. "There you go, Lauren."

"Finally!" Lauren yelled as she took the computer and ran down the stairs to her room. There was an itch on Jacob's neck and he brought his hand to the spot to rub it away. Though what he wanted gone most wouldn't go away.

The glaring black **M** on his neck that would never let him rise higher after his injury. Had he been higher in class, he might've gotten a commanding position in the military, but since he was a foot soldier marked with that fucking **M**, he could only hope his new masters were kind. So far, due to his technical and mechanical prowess he'd learned in the military, they had been as kind as masters could be. The crushing blow was, should he ever have children one day, they would be marked with **HN**, the lowest mark of the low, all because of his injury during training in Louisiana. Doctors had managed to repair his left knee for the most part, but he was rendered useless to the military and dishonorably discharged. Jacob was lost in his thoughts when little Cathy came up the stairs to the kitchen.

"Hey, Cathy," Jacob said to the small little girl, who ran into the kitchen like a scared cat to get her glass of water and weakly said "Hello," before running back downstairs to her room. She'd been acting so strange in the past few months. She used to be so bubbly and happy, greeting all who dared say hello with an exuberant hug. Jacob used to love it when she did. She was so young and innocent and ignorant to the way of things that she would hug Jacob as if he were her equal. Now, she runs away from everyone in shyness and doesn't talk to people unless expressly made to do so. Unless, of course, anyone started talking to her about that kids' show she likes so much. A few months after her third birthday is when things started changing and she no longer tells her mother or father she loves them. That was the most devastating blow for Mr. and Mrs. Colin. Their baby girl didn't tell them she loved them anymore and they didn't know what was wrong.

Upon Mrs. Colin's return home, she came in with some mail (mostly bills) and addressed Jacob with a, "Hello," when she came down to the kitchen floor.

"Hello Mrs. Colin."

"Lauren told me her computer wasn't working. Have you gotten to fixing that?"

"Yes, I fixed it. Her friend is coming later for me to fix her car as well." Mrs. Colin looked at Jacob a moment before pulling out her phone seeming to text someone. After a few minutes, Mrs. Colin put down her phone and returned her attention to the mail.

"No she isn't," Mrs. Colin said bluntly. "Is she using her newly fixed computer to do her homework?"

"I haven't checked," Jacob answered. "She seemed more concerned with talking to her friends."

"Of course," Mrs. Colin groaned. "Have you seen Cathy?"

"She came up to get a glass of water. That's the only time I've seen her today." Mrs. Colin only seemed sullen. "Why is she home so early? She wouldn't tell me."

"She walked home from daycare," Mrs. Colin said. "So she didn't tell you why?" Jacob shook his head. Mrs. Colin sighed and then began to tear up. When she was crying fully, Jacob walked over to her and placed his hand on her shoulder in an attempt to offer comfort. Mrs. Colin backed away from his touch and rubbed the tears away. "I'm going to talk to Cathy. You'll remember not to touch me in the future. Something came in for you."

Mrs. Colin walked away from the kitchen and down the stairs, leaving Jacob alone. Jacob pushed the rejection from his mind and searched through the mail for what was supposed to be his. He didn't get mail anymore, so this was a bit of a surprise. He no longer received pay and he was no longer in contact with his family. How could he be? He was lesser than them now. Jacob finally found what had been sent to him and a chill went down his spine that he couldn't explain. It was addressed to Jacob Black (**M**) and it was from the White House of all places. Jacob opened the envelope and read through the letter. At least, being born slightly above HN people, he had the ability to read. At least he had that luxury.

_Jacob Black (__**M**__),_

_ You have been selected to participate in an important government program at Outreach Chicago. Upon your masters' earliest convenience, report to Outreach D.C. with this document in hand. Should your contribution to this program be acceptable, you will be reinstated in the Military._

_Approved by,_

_President Victor H. Marshal_

What proceeded the note to him were hours he could arrive and the address of Outreach D.C. No one really knew what happened at these facilities. He'd been told many times that this place was purposed for the betterment of society, but that was so vague. It was also the only explanation anyone ever got. He remembered when he'd asked his commanding office what they did and he'd bluntly answered, 'You know about as well as I do'. It's no wonder the message itself was so vague as well. No one except a select few who were kept under strict secrecy knew what happened at Outreach. That's how Victor Marshal wanted it. As Jacob was reading his mail, he heard Mrs. Colin yelling from downstairs. He heard her demand Cathy to tell her why she left daycare and Cathy complained of mean kids, but in very vague and unclear ways. That was another problem: she was very unclear. It was as if all the language and social skills she'd had prior to the age of three simply went away. Jacob didn't doubt kids at school were mean to Cathy. She'd changed so much and was odd at times before and after the age of three that kids thought she was different and hence were mean to her and she'd always been so oblivious to what effect she had with the things she said and did. They all knew something was wrong but no one knew exactly what or how to even get help for it.

By the time Mrs. Colin came up from her daughter's room she seemed emotionally drained, but Jacob said nothing. If Mrs. Colin knew he'd heard the whole thing, she'd have a fit. She leaned against the railings of her stairs and rubbed her face, getting rid of the tears. When she did finally address Jacob, she made a point to seem completely in control and unaffected.

"So what came for you?"

"It's an invitation to Outreach." Jacob held out the letter to her and she read through it, becoming all the more irritated.

"I guess I should've expected this," she said, handing the letter back to Jacob. "We'll take you tomorrow. My husband can drop you off before he goes to work."

"What do you think they want with me?"

"I don't care," she sighed heavily. "Just go there, do what they say, and if you get reinstated, be damned grateful for it. I have to get dressed for tonight so help yourself to some leftovers in the fridge when you get hungry but you're only to touch the leftovers. I'm sure you'll get plenty of fresh food once you get to Outreach." Mrs. Colin began to go back downstairs, but Jacob caught up to her with a hopeful request.

"Would you mind if I came with you to that party at the White House? I know I won't get to talk to anyone, but maybe I could be of use and keep an eye on Cathy for you." Mrs. Colin seemed prepared to say no at his ludicrous request, but she stopped and thought about it a moment. It would give Mr. and Mrs. Colin more time to socialize if they didn't have to keep a constant watch of Cathy.

"Fine, but only if you occupy yourself entirely with watching Cathy and make sure she never wonders too far from us. I'll look for something clean for you to wear. I suggest you take a shower too. I could smell you from above ground."

Mrs. Colin went downstairs to remind her daughters to get ready for tonight while Jacob went to his room on the kitchen floor and cleaned up like he was told. He knew he'd be yelled at for it, but Jacob showered with hot water. That's why he didn't shower too often because he was only allowed to take cold showers; Mr. Colin didn't like Jacob to use up hot water. He dried himself off quickly and dressed in some clothes Mrs. Colin laid out for him. They were his clothes, but they were slightly nicer than what he was typically allowed to wear. Normally, he was only allowed cheap jeans and really thin brown shirts. The clothes he'd be wearing were clothes he'd worn when he arrived to the Colins' house after being discharged from the military: a foot soldier's uniform and boots that were cleaned only months ago. After putting on the uniform, he looked at himself in the mirror and felt a sense of depression as he rubbed the **M** on his neck. He sat on the floor on his blanket and just stared at it until he heard a knock on his door. He saw Cathy standing in the doorway only a moment before she walked over to him and sat down next to him.

"Did you need anything Cathy?" Cathy shook her head. "Did you want to talk?" She shook her head. "Did your mom ask you to stay with me while she gets ready?" She nodded. "Are you looking forward to the party?" Cathy shook her head. "I'll be there with you. I'll make sure we have fun, okay?"

"I don't like this," Cathy said, suddenly changing the subject by pulling at the ends of her dress. It was a little purple dress with a metal belt at the waist and a butterfly clipped to the sides of her short chin-length haircut.

"I think you look adorable." Jacob patted Cathy's head and finally got her to giggle if only for a moment.

By the time Mrs. Colin was dressed, Jacob and Cathy were engrossed in a card game of War. The two put away the cards and went to the top floor to put on their masks and suits, though since Jacob would be driving he only grabbed his mask. Lauren refused to wear her suit, leaving twenty minutes wasted to Mrs. Colin and her daughter arguing which was only interrupted by a call from Mr. Colin asking why they weren't at the White House yet. Both women in a huff and Cathy feeling unnerved and uncomfortable, they finally walked into the garage. Jacob grabbed the keys while the women got into the back seat of the car and got into the driver's seat, tossing his mask to the seat next to him.

"Are we going straight to the White House?" Jacob asked Mrs. Colin from the front seat.

"Yes!" Mrs. Colin yelled over whatever comment Lauren had been prepared to make while Jacob sealed off the entrance to the house with the wireless garage door opener. The two argued more and more throughout the drive to the party.

By the time they finally arrived, Mrs. Colin and Lauren were still arguing over the friend not coming over and Cathy was engrossed in picking at her hair. Every time Mrs. Colin barked at Cathy to stop, Cathy would pick right back up as soon as Lauren and Mrs. Colin were arguing again. The actual building from before the war was still standing, but it was completely vacant. Everything had been moved below ground, the original structure nothing more than a hollow memory of a past that no one was allowed to remember. Within the entrance was a descending platform lowering into the uppermost floors where cars were to be parked. Everyone put back on their masks for the walk from the car to the end of the garage where security, individuals marked with the **M** on their necks, directed them through a tank that allowed them to transfer from the outer atmosphere to the healthier atmosphere inside. Their suits and masks were all hanged in a designated room and all four walked along the halls until they reached an entrance where they met up with Mr. Colin.

"What took you so long?" Mr. Colin asked.

"Don't worry about it; we're here now. How was work today?"

"Same as always," Mr. Colin answered as they walked towards the dining hall. When they entered, Mr. Colin seemed only then to realize Jacob was there. "Why did you bring Jacob?"

"He asked to come and he offered to keep an eye on Cathy."

"Why didn't you just leave him at home with her? Why did you bother bringing the girls? This is a _business dinner_!"

"My thoughts exact—"

"Oh shut up Lauren," Mrs. Colin barked back. "I brought the girls, let's accept it and try to enjoy ourselves."

"Fine," Mr. Colin finally said with an exasperated sigh.

"By the way, before I forget. Jacob needs you to drive him to the Outreach D.C. facility tomorrow morning. He was selected to participate in a government program."

"Fine, if you say so," Mr. Colin said absently. He was more concerned with finding President Marshal and formally greeting him.

When he finally spotted the President, Mr. Colin led his family and Jacob towards the President, making a point to instruct Jacob to stay at least five paces away from the family. He didn't notice Cathy lag behind to stand next to Jacob as they walked and Jacob didn't stop her from walking with him either. Sarah Marshal, Victor's grandmother, was the first to notice the Colins coming towards them and tapped Victor's shoulder to get his attention. He excused himself from his previous conversation to great Mr. Colin warmly.

"It's about time you came to say hello to me," Victor said as he shook Mr. Colin's hand. "I was beginning to think you would stay in the corner forever." Mr. Colin kept a smile, though he was agitated that Victor had caught him waiting for his wife to arrive.

"I'm sorry for the delay," Mrs. Colin answered on her husband's behalf. "My daughters and I took longer to get ready than we'd anticipated. I hope you're not angry with us."

"Oh don't worry dear," Sarah smiled kindly. "I'm the same way. I spent hours on my hair and makeup before this party, but it was worth it to look lovely for this event."

"My grandma is, of course, being sarcastic." Victor chuckled and sipped his wine while the smile on Sarah's face faded for the briefest of moments before her recovery. "So who's this?" Victor pointed towards Jacob.

"Just someone under our service," Mr. Colin answered. "We brought him to keep an eye on Cathy. She's at that age," he chuckled nervously. Smiling, Victor kneeled down on his feet so he was at Cathy's level and motioned with his finger for her to come to him. Cathy reluctantly complied.

"So how old are you, Cathy?" Cathy held her head down and didn't answer. The look in Victor's eyes frightened her. "Is she mute?" Victor asked Mrs. Colin when Cathy remained silent.

"No," Mrs. Colin rushed, "she's not mute, she's just shy. I think she's just been getting nervous around people the older she gets. I do apologize."

"No, it's alright," Victor assured. "Either way, it's a pleasure to meet Rob Colin's youngest daughter."

"You're cologne is too strong," Cathy said suddenly when Victor gently rubbed her face and she flinched. Jacob saw it coming a mile away, but he didn't say anything. She'd grown to hate being touched. She seemed extremely sensitive to it.

"Is it?" Victor asked the little girl. "I've heard from your co-workers that Cathy was a sweet little girl. It appears they were gravely mistaken."

"She's just shy," Mrs. Colin defended, keeping her voice cordial though Jacob noticed she seemed to get really agitated.

"She used to run up to strangers and hug them like it was nothing, but she doesn't do that anymore. We don't really know why. It could just be age."

"It sounds like regression to me," Sarah said. "Especially if it's so sudden."

"I'm sure she's just shy," Mrs. Colin said again. She took a hold of Cathy and brought her close to her. Cathy was really uncomfortable with the touch.

"Interesting," Victor finally said. The President walked away, noticing General Lents coming into the banquet hall. Sarah followed her grandson only after apologizing for his rudeness on his behalf, but it didn't relieve Mrs. Colin's nerves.

"He's an insufferable man."

"He's the president, so deal with it," Mr. Colin said.

"I don't care if he's the president. He has no right to speak to Cathy that way."

"Will you be quiet?" Mr. Colin ordered. "If anyone overhears you, I could lose my job. Then I would be blacklisted. If you want us to end up like Jacob, by all means, keep flapping your gums." Mrs. Colin finally stayed quiet and Jacob stayed quiet himself, rubbing his neck where he felt a sting.

"I'm hungry," Cathy mumbled.

"What honey?" Mrs. Colin asked her.

"I said I'm hungry."

"You need to stop mumbling, dear. I can't hear you when you mumble." Mrs. Colin looked around for a waiter handing out food and found one. "Jacob, what's on that platter the black waiter's holding?" Jacob looked where Mrs. Colin was pointing and saw a tall black man in a nice suit and a platter.

"I can't tell," he said.

"Well, take Lauren and Cathy over there, see what he's serving. Now remember not to let Cathy eat cheese. You know how it makes her sick."

"You don't need to remind me, Mrs. Colin," Jacob said as calmly as possible. Mrs. Colin finally let go of Cathy and Jacob took her hand to walk to the waiter.

"Mom, I'm going to walk around," Lauren said.

"I'd rather you stayed with either us or Jacob."

"Mom, I'm sixteen, not two. I can take care of myself."

"I don't care, Lauren. You either stay with me or Jacob, no ifs ands or buts about it. Are we clear?" Lauren rolled her eyes and decided to follow Jacob and Cathy. She didn't want to be around her mom right now.

The waiter, upon closer inspection, was serving stuffed mushrooms. There was cheese on top, but Jacob could always pull the cheese off. He tapped on the waiter's shoulder to get his attention. When the waiter turned around, the **HN** on his neck was glaring, thicker than most individuals would have it. People of deep skin tones always had fuller shading in their tattoos (when they had them) to help with sighting the mark. The girls didn't pay it any attention, but the mark made Jacob shudder. Using the napkin the mushroom was atop, Jacob pulled off the cheese and handed it to Cathy.

"Here you go, Cathy."

"But I don't like mushroom," Cathy said, putting the mushroom in her mouth anyway. Jacob smiled at her and patted her head.

"Do you want anything, Lauren?"

"If I want something, I'll get it myself." Lauren walked closer to the waiter and grabbed a few mushrooms. "Mm," Lauren hummed while looking at Cathy, "cheese."

"Don't tease her," Jacob told her.

"Don't tell me what to do." Lauren, having decided she'd rather stand with Mr. and Mrs. Colin, walked away to find her parents and left Jacob with her little sister.

During the party, President Marshal walked out of the party to his underground oval office with General Lucas Lents and his vice-president. The vice-president Laurence was a vice-president in name only. His true duties, one could say, included whatever President Marshal dictated be that speaking with foreign dignitaries to keeping track of the bets placed on Marshal's most recent game of SchizoChess. President Marshal went to his large chair, forcing it to lean back as he rested his feet on his desk.

"Give me good news, General," Victor ordered.

"I wish I could Mr. President. It's concerning Chancellor Wong." The name made Sarah nervous and she began to tap her gel nails together.

"Grandma, if you don't stop that, I swear I'll rip those nails off." Sarah stopped and instead began wringing her hands together. It was silent, so Victor didn't care. "What does he want?"

"The same thing he always wants," General Lents said. "He wants the money the United States owes China."

"We owe them nothing," Victor said. "As I recall, they were supporting Europe during the war."

"Yes, but they agreed to ally themselves with us so long as we begin repaying the debt."

"This arrangement's been in place for seven years," Sarah said. "If you keep stiffing the Chinese of payments, they won't be our allies anymore. Worst case scenario is they might want to go to war over this."

"They're not that stupid, Grandma," Victor said with a chuckle. A ringing began to resonate through the room. "Speak of the Devil," Victor said when the Chancellor in question appeared on the computer screen. Victor sat up straight, taking his foot off the table, and touched the answer button on the computer. "Chancellor," Victor began with a bright, pasted on smile. "It's always a pleasure to hear from you."

"I wish I could say the same," Chancellor Wong said in his heavy accent, added to with no attempt to conceal his irritation with the young president. "We haven't received payment, President."

"Haven't you?" Victor changed on the flip of a coin, appearing genuinely surprised that such a thing could happen. "I know we sent you the fee we owe. Surely there must be a mistake or misunderstanding."

"Seven missed payments isn't a 'misunderstanding' Marshal."

"You're right, of course. I could swear I had a check sent to you just this past week. Are you sure you've not simply overlooked it?"

"I wouldn't overlook a 420 billion dollar check from the United States Treasury, Marshal. I especially wouldn't overlook _five payments_ of 420 billion dollars."

"I shall have it looked into," Victor assured with vigor. "Perhaps one of my staff has stolen the payments! If so, I shall make them reimburse you."

"If you think the payments are being stolen, you should've looked into it the _first_ time I told you China hadn't received compensation! My country and its people agreed to ally themselves with the United States only under the condition that you begin reimbursement of your debt to us. If you continue to refuse reimbursing us our money, then you can forget our military assistance regardless of circumstance."

"I'm not refusing to reimburse you, Mr. Wong."

"Chancellor," he corrected.

"Chancellor," Victor corrected himself. "As I said, I'm not refusing to make payments. Quite the contrary I would argue. All the stress that comes with being president, you can understand that from time to time I get distracted from foreign affairs."

"I don't care about your 'stresses'."

"I understand and I promise you that there will be an investigation into this missing money. Whoever has stolen the money from the two of us shall immediately be reprimanded and made to return what he stole."

"Indeed," the Chancellor said, though he looked highly skeptical and, frankly, infuriated. "Perhaps until you've reprimanded the culprit, you can give me future payments in my office personally. So long as you're well protected, no one could steal it right from your hands."

"Honest to God," Victor smiled, "I'll give you the next payment in person. Then I'll give you the rest once I find out who's behind this robbery."

"You'd best," Chancellor Wong said before finally hanging up. Victor closed the window looking proud of himself.

"What the hell are you talking about?" General Lents asked in a panic.

"Now now General, you should know better than to question me," Victor said, still smirking. "I want you to start an investigation into the robbery."

"What robbery? You made it up!"

"I want you," Victor repeated and his voice became harsh, "to start an investigation. Keep the _correct _information and when you've gathered all you need to know I'll expect an arrest. And take your time," Victor emphasized. "After all, China won't expect another payment until next year and such things can't be rushed."

"What if I can't find a suspect?" the General asked trying not to lose his patience.

"Then make up a reason why you can't. Make sure this investigation is done _right_," Victor emphasized yet again.

"Yes Mr. President," General Lents said evenly.

"Good!" Victor's chipper smile returned with a vengeance, "Now to more important things. How's the chess game going?"

"Your girl's still alive," General Lents answered.

"Perfect!" Victor grabbed for the remote and turned on the massive flat screen to his right. The remaining living men and women in the room (only three alive out of the original ten) were holding their respective weapons. The living man, whom was bet upon by Georgia's representative Harry Lloyd, was in a corner holding a hammer talking to himself. The two women, one bet upon by Victor and the other bet upon by the General, were on opposite sides of the room. Victor's girl held a machete and the General's girl held a rock. All three individuals were talking to themselves having not been on medication for a good week and a half since this game of SchizoChess started. "I knew I picked a good one. The paranoid ones always make the best bets."

"I'm still in the game too, Mr. President," the General chuckled, finally relaxing just a bit.

"I don't know, Lucas. I think my girl's going to come out on top. Did you let the losers know they're out of the game?"

"I'll do that now."

"Good. And remember to start that investigation, General."

"Yes sir." The General saluted Victor and walked out of the room.

"Why don't you go back to the party, Grandma? I'll stay here and watch the game." Sarah sighed at the image on the screen. None of them were doing any more than talking to themselves in utter nonsense.

"I don't see why you find this so entertaining. It's like watching paint dry."

"I prefer to see it as looking out for your wrinkles. Nothing might happen for a while, but would you know it? The minute I look away, there's a new one."

Sarah needed a moment to recover from Victor's underhanded comment and left his office as soon as she was able. When he was alone, Victor took his chair with him closer to the screen. He situated the chair in a way that kept more focus on the woman he'd bet on. Then he used his remote to make the camera focus on her face. She looked like a mad-woman, not scared of her surroundings, but angry instead. He turned up the volume to listen to her utterances. She mumbled mostly, talking about the monsters in the room and grinning when she reminded herself that she'd killed some of the monsters.

"I killed them," she said to herself quietly. "The teeth jagged river flow. Green figure the sky in behind." Victor chuckled, another reason he'd picked this woman to bet on. He loved it when they spoke in nonsense. It made him laugh.

The girl suddenly jerked her head to one direction, so Victor panned out the camera so he could see what possibly caught her attention. The man in the corner was catatonic and the other woman was shivering and crying in response to voices only she could hear. He picked a good time to tune into the game. Things were getting interesting. The man made sudden jerking movement with his shoulder and it set the General's girl off. She screamed suddenly and ran toward the man. Victor laughed every time the General's girl tripped over a dead body or fecal matter before she made it to the man in the corner. She hit him over the head with her rock over and over again and the man couldn't seem to respond to her attack; perhaps he was still catatonic.

The General's girl eventually stopped screaming but she continued to babble endlessly. Victor's girl stayed silent, playing around with her machete and cutting herself a few times on accident. Only his girl and the General's girl remained alive. He would inform Harry Lloyd personally about the death of his bet. Victor did enjoy watching that man's face glaze over with disappointment at having lost money in yet another bet. Dear Mr. Calvin Lloyd was such a saint to tolerate his husband's constant failures in gambling. For now, though, Victor reveled in the happenings on the screen as he rubbed his crotch. That little episode the General's girl had elicited one hell of an erection and it demanded attention.


	4. FictionPress

**FictionPress**

A reader has informed me of FictionPress where I can post independent works so all future chapters will be posted there. Characters shall also have their independent names. The character Jacob Black embodied and on FictionPress will return to is Jonathan (Jon) Murdock. The character Renesmee would have played will go back to the name Diana Adams. Thank you for your patience and Chapter 2 will be up soon.


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